Legitimate Doubt
by Mcube
Summary: There are aliens living among us. It's one of the most shrouded secrets of our time and a cover-up that can be traced to the innermost cabinets of King Furry's government. Apocryphal Eras magazine's Alenio Conspiriakalos returns to his journalistic roots in this multi-part exposé. What he finds will shake the foundation of your beliefs.
1. Volume 12 Issue 3: 26 May 765

**Legitimate Doubt: Truths the Government doesn't want you to know**

\- By Alenio Conspiriakalos Chief Managing Editor- _Apocryphal Eras_ magazine

* * *

I've been blessed, these past five years, with an incredible staff of writers here at _AE_. They have made it possible for me to branch out into the cyber world with my YouTube series and TV specials while still providing you with the high quality journalism you as readers have come to expect from _Apocryphal Eras._ I never tire of meeting dedicated readers in the field while I'm shooting or researching. Your input and suggestions have fueled my ambition and given me the drive to never stop seeking the truth.

For several years now, common everyday citizens and devoted fans alike have come up to me on the street and said, "You know, Alen, I've seen some pretty weird stuff." They've told fantastic tales of space ships and men who fly. Rational folks with full time jobs have recalled vivid details of extraordinary feats of strength and improbable physics-defying acts of super terrestrial abilities. One such encounter set me on the path that I find myself treading now; a path which has opened my eyes to facts that leave me terrified for the future of this planet.

 _ **Mystifying Gems**_

When I think back on the beginning of my journey, it seems so long ago. My quest for the truth actually began eleven months ago early last June. Taking advantage of the short summers in the north, I traveled to the Northern Wastelands to investigate the ancient ruins around Mt. Curdinya.

The town of Lupunyy lies in the shadows of the Yogurtin mountain chain, roughly 20 km from Mt Frappe's peak, a place swallowed up by its own shrouded mysteries. In a delightfully quaint little pink and green café on the outskirts of town, I met Cindeth Adihre, a hard working waitress, and as I discovered, single mother of seven. Her petite figure and soft features are common to members of the North Country's indigenous rabbit clans. She sat down across from me at the end of her shift one Friday evening with two fresh cups of coffee.

"I know who you are. I've seen your shows," she said as she leaned closer and pulled a small stone from a red velveteen satchel. "I have something that you might find interesting. My eldest son, Errnar found these with some friends out in the wastes," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "He thinks he can clean them up and sell them. He doesn't want me to have to work anymore."

I wasn't sure what she wanted from me, I explained that I was no geologist or jeweler, and I couldn't really tell her how valuable they were.

"You don't understand" She pressed on, undeterred "he finds them in different places, always a few hours after the tremors."

This was my third day calling Lupunyy my base camp, and in that time I was warned of these "tremors" on no less than five occasions. Curious, I asked Cindeth to tell me the details of these strange occurrences.

"They started about four months ago, not every day, though. Maybe every three or four days; sometimes longer. The ground shakes on and off for hours, sometimes there are explosions, bright lights, too. Then, as quick as they start, they're over. Once, a delivery driver claimed to see two vapor trails take off straight into the sky, then go in opposite directions." The soft white fur covering her slim arms twinkled in the fluorescent lights as she animated her story. Cindith had my attention.

"About a month ago Errnar and his two friends went off into the wastes a few hours after the tremors stopped. When he came home he said the ground was steaming, there were places where they couldn't walk it was so hot. A new canyon had been created and everything was just destroyed, like the pictures he had seen of the great wars. He found these stones all over. Most are larger than that, stuck in chunks of silvery rock" She nodded to the little metamorphic shape sitting on the table between us.

For the first time I really studied it. The stone was small but solid. It was clear almost like glass or diamond, but unlike diamond there was an almost hexagonal shape to it. Admittedly, I have never seen uncut diamond, but this appeared to be much more unrefined with a slight yellow color to it which I assumed were impurities. Honestly if I had to put a name to the stone I would have said it most closely resembled a small chunk of quartz, but I was certain quartz wasn't mined in the north. Cindith confirmed she had never seen anything like this before. I explained to Cindith that I had to leave come morning, but I was indeed interested in further investigating her story. I paid her a small fee for the stone, and I assured her that if nothing else I would find out how valuable Errnar's stones were.

 _ **Fantastic Find**_

I returned to the offices here in West City, but my mind remained in the Northern Mountains. The glassy yellow gem was haunting me, so I sought out an old geologist friend of mine, Bernardo Escombros, at the Universidad Del Rey in South Capitol.

I presented Bernardo with Errnar's stone, but I deliberately left out any information about how I acquired it. His analysis simply blew my mind and exceeded all expectations. The stone was in fact not quartz but a kind of gem called Lonsdaleite, or hexagonal diamond. He explained that these kinds of nano-diamonds form under conditions of impact metamorphism or plastic deformation; in layman's terms, an explosive event of the most powerful magnitude. The most famous specimens to date have been found associated with meteoric impact craters. Researchers from Mashirito Labs in Orange Star City theorized Lonsdaleite was actually a harder material than pure traditional diamond. Many geologists and paleontologists link the appearance of these gems with global extinctions that historically are attributed to catastrophic meteor impacts. Dr. Escombros went on to explain that owing to the rarity of Lonsdaleite, its worth was indeterminable, but he had seen estimates of 58% greater than the value of traditional diamond.

His analysis spurred my curiosity, and despite his insistence, I maintained secrecy hoping to protect Cindith and her family until I had more information. I went back and researched meteoric activity for the entirety of this past year, and found strangely, there were no known events to have occurred in the Northern Mountains. Oddly there have been no events of that magnitude anywhere since a large meteor was thought to have crashed somewhere around Mt Paozu in 737, but the crater was never located. It would be preposterous to assume the appearance of these gems is merely coincidental, or attributed to meteor impacts; especially since they coincide with the mysterious "tremors".

I contacted Cindith to tell her of Dr. Escombros' findings and also to ask for her permission to allow Errnar to take me to the place where he found these mysterious stones.

 _ **Into the Wastes**_

I returned to Lupunyy two weeks later, to the same little pink and green café where my adventure began. Cindith, they told me with some annoyance, quit her job. The owner of the café guided me to the Adihre homestead and with a curt wave, directed me out the door.

I was astonished to see the palatial domed capsule mansion planted amid the fertile farmland. The sun reflected off the yellow dome like a lighthouse beacon illuminating the mansion from a distance of at least 5K. It was a scene I had grown accustomed to in West City, but here in this pristine wilderness it seemed like a canker. Cindith and her father Bunnin, a stern native farmer with graying black and white fur, explained to me that after my call they sold the Lonsdaleite gems to a local mining company and were in the process of negotiating contracts with four additional mines. It seemed Errnar got his wish; his mother would never have to work again.

The next morning, Errnar escorted me into the wastelands. He was hopeful for a return of the tremors; they had been silent for about a week. We hiked through beautiful lush green boreal forest for roughly two and a half hours. When we stopped Errnar pulled out a capsule that I recognized as "Hoverbike Capsule 5", the newest model. He dropped the capsule in my palm and pulled out one for himself.

"The forest stops here, ' _New Canyon_ ' is right over the rise." He told me. ' _New Canyon_ ' was simply otherworldly. As we rode down into the canyon the destruction was astonishing. Cliff walls were broken and fragmented by what I can only imagine was an inconceivable force.

While I was investigating a large Lonsdelite deposit in a cliff wall I heard what I can only describe as a sonic boom. Errnar jerked me aside pulling both of us behind a boulder and pointed to the sky. I witnessed a long vapor trail that appeared from the west and looked to be descending rapidly; then I heard two other booms. Looking off toward the south we glimpsed two vapor trails heading toward the direction of the first.

I couldn't believe my luck! When I tried to move toward the "landing area" Errnar held me back. He warned that when he tried to approach earlier, the tremors would stop and "they" would take off. It was as if some sort of detection device had been buried in the ground to warn "them" of intruders.

The next hour or so could be counted as one of the most frightening times of my life. There was a constant barrage of distant explosions and ground swelling tremors. As suddenly as the battle started, it quieted, and I heard the most distinctive sound of an airplane. Looking toward the west I saw the sun glint off the metal jet as it began its decent toward the direction of the unseen "combatants".

The plane landed and the canyon fell into a peaceful silence as the wind picked up a most horrid screeching sound. Errnar suggested it sounded similar to the way his mother yelled at him and his brothers. I could hardly imagine his demure pink-nosed mother or any native of Earth making that sound. The screeching sound stopped and two trails took off heading south east, the third took off and headed west. I heard the unmistakable sound of a plane preparing to lift off and was able to yank my binoculars out of my bag in the nick of time.

As I watched the plane turn to fly off to the west, I caught sight of a symbol that made my blood run cold. My mind reeled with the implications of what I saw, and it made me question the truths we have been told. It became my priority in life to uncover the real truth.

Over the course of the next few weeks I will present the evidence that these tremors in the Northern wastes and other seemingly unrelated events can be laced together to paint a picture of government obfuscation. There are extraterrestrials among us; not only are the authorities aware, but I will prove beyond a doubt that they are using the most brilliant minds in the world to conceal it. Bookmark this link or keep an eye on your local news stand for the next issue; I have no doubt that you will be as astonished as I was when I finally put the pieces together.

- _next_ \- The Yeti of Mt. Paozu

* * *

 _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are my own. I do not own Dragon Ball(Z) nor am I making any money off of this. No copyright infringement is intended. **Beta by Sporadic Writer**. _


	2. Volume 12 Issue 4: 02 June 765

**The Yeti of Mt. Paozu**

-By Alenio Conspiriakalos

* * *

When I returned to my offices here in West City, I felt as if I had a renewed sense of purpose. I rescheduled appointments and reassigned TV production logistics to my colleges. I dedicated myself to research in a way I hadn't since the early days of _AE_. I felt a growing sense of paranoia around each turn in those first few days. One careless slip-up could alert the very organizations that I was investigating.

I thought back to those unexplained stones and their origin. Is it possible, I asked myself, that the impact craters associated with Lonsdaleite formation were not _simply_ natural phenomena, but the direct result something of an intelligent design? I reviewed the data from my previous meteor impact research and the reported meteor over Mt Paozu in 737 caught my interest. I wondered if there were any Lonsdaleite deposits associated with this sighting. It seemed peculiar to me if there was a large meteor why was the crater never located? Was there some sort of influential enterprise concealing the crash site? I had to visit that mountain.

Mt Paozu has always had the reputation of being as dangerous as it is beautiful. The remote location and rugged terrain along the eastern Diablo Desert has long been a haven for thieves and bandits. Some of the rarest and most fantastic animal species still inhabit these dark forests and deserts. As is often the case with ancient mysterious places, a mythology as strange as the landscape itself has arisen around the mystifying mountain.

 _ **The Villages: Aru and Carrot**_

In ages long past, the area we now know as the Eastern District were the lands of the Oryza Empire. Though diminutive, the Oryza emperors of antiquity were ruthless conquerors. The last great ruler, Emperor Onigiri died in 716 and the empire landed in the diapers of Onigiri's infant son Pilaf. History will paint a dim picture of "emperor" Pilaf. While stories of the young emperor tell of his callous savagery, he didn't command the same respect or loyalty as his ancestors. According to recorded accounts, the land on and around Mt. Pauzu began to fall from the young emperor's administration in order to pay off debts. By 731, all that was left of the great Oryza Empire was the magnificent castle and roughly two hectares of the surrounding Mushroom Forest.

There are two incorporated villages in the Eastern District that lie between the Diablo Desert and the foothills of Mt. Paozu; Aru Village and Carrot Village. The later, Carrot Village takes its name from, of all things, the organized crime syndicate that once owned the village. I was fairly certain, if there was a meteor impact on Mt Paozu, the residents of these two villages would know.

In a diner in Aru Village I met with three ranch hands on their lunch break. Johnny, Clem, and Chet were eager to relate some of the tales they heard over the years, as well as some of the things they have witnessed. Johnny and Clem remembered a boy and girl who came into town. "'Bout ten years ago." Chet recalled. "Round about the time them girls was taken by the Shape-changer"

"Those two; they had no fear. They were about our age. They stood up to the shape-changer and exposed the monster for what he was, just a pig!" Johnny added.

Chet remembered the old hermit who lived up on the mountain. "Quiet old man would come down once a year for supplies. Momma said he was always such a gentleman"

They also remembered stories of a giant ape man. Folks said it was a deadly creature that killed everything in its way. The Yeti, they said, leveled an entire village with the swipe of its arm. Clem told me he never heard it, but his father swore he would hear it howling at the full moon. Amma, my waitress, also heard of those stories. She added some interesting details of her own.

"When I lived in Carrot Village a few years ago, I heard stories of two kids and a shape-shifter about fifteen years back over there. They were the ones who kicked the rabbit mob out of town. That was about the time they say the giant ape-man, the Yeti, destroyed Pilaf's castle."

I read about the destruction of Emperor Pillaf's castle in official insurance investigation claimed an errant weapon test was responsible for the damage. It wasn't long after that incident that the emperor went into hiding and resurfaced a year later working with King Piccolo. Could it be that the destruction of the castle was the result of some sort of feral ape creature and not an explosion as the authorities would have you believe?

The next day I traveled to Carrot Village. This is a larger, more sophisticated town compared to Aru. Hafeez a local tailor recalled a boy and girl coming into his tailor's shop when he was an apprentice.

"I figure it was about fourteen, fifteen years ago. The rabbit mob was lousy in this place. 'Boss R' bought the town from the bank. He wasn't any better than that Pilaf kid. I remember that kid with the tail stood his ground and fought off the whole mob. That girl she was a cunning one too, till 'Boss R' did that carrot thing on her. Bad sort they were; the mob I mean. We've been better off ever since."

Safi, a strong middle aged mechanic with wise gray eyes remembered hearing tales of the ape-man from some elders. They told of horrible howls echoing across the mountain during a full moon. One old trader, Safi told me, brought a story back from Aru village.

"The trader told my papa, while he was working on his truck, about a hunter in Aru village who told him about a giant Yeti-like beast that he saw with his own eyes. Toward the top of the mountain, he claimed. This was about thirty years ago or so; the trader said he met the guy in a tavern, so you know how these things are. The trader said something about the Yeti was bigger than anything his hunter friend had ever seen, uncontrolled, the thing destroyed a small village that used to be up there."

I met Nida, a waitress and part time mystic. She told me she had heard of the stories of the boy and girl who fought off Boss Rabbit. She also told me that legends speak of a supernatural force that surrounds Mt. Paozu and she was sure this energy gave rise to the giant ape-man that destroyed Emperor Pilaf's castle. They say Pilaf captured the Yeti and tried to use it as a weapon but it escaped and destroyed the castle.

After hearing tales of the fate of Pilaf, I was eager to see for myself the ruins of his once great castle. I was only able to glimpse the ruins from a distance, but it was clear some sort of catastrophe happened there. A single light in a high window of the last surviving tower suggested the place had been taken over by squatters. Oddly, the security measures set up before the emperor's disappearance seemed to still be active. From what I was able to see, I have no doubt that whatever happened there was no errant weapons blast but the work of some form of intelligence. Perhaps there is some truth to the accounts suggesting Pilaf's castle was destroyed by the Yeti.

These types of stories are familiar to me. Tales of Yeren, Yeti, and Sasquatch are found throughout the local mythologies of indigenous remote villages all over the world. These sightings have been corroborated by eye-witness accounts and hard evidence such as footprints and hair samples. Is it possible that the stories of the Yeti of Mt. Paozu are in fact not a myth, but a living breathing denizen of the mountain? And what role did this little boy and young girl play in the story? I left Diablo Desert with no more insight into the meteor, but now my curiosity was leading me down another path.

 _ **Fire Mountain Connection**_

Not only was I fascinated by the similarity of the tales the villagers related to me, but I became intrigued by the identity of the children and the reports of an old man that lived atop Mt Paozu. My searches lead to the hall of records in Orange Star City. In a dusty dog-eared paper ledger I found a deed to a twelve hectare plot of land located high on the western slopes of Mt. Paozu registered to a man named Son Gohan.

A short computer search of Mr. Son reveled that he was declared legally dead in 749 and, without any living relatives, the land was bequeathed to the Ox-King of Fire Mountain. Further archival searches showed that Son Gohan and Ox-King were pupils of the venerated Turtle School of Martial arts, under the tutelage of Maser Roshi. Sometime after the 18th Budokai around 736 the pair left Rosihi's school and went their separate ways.

I traveled to Fire Mountain to request an audience with Ox-King. I thought perhaps he could tell me if his friend related any stories about the meteor that may have landed near his home or verified any of the Yeti claims. Unfortunately, Ox-King wasn't available to receive me, but I did consult with people close to the palace.

I spoke with a laundry-woman named Ausan who remembered a time when the palace was surrounded by fire. She didn't recall a man named Son, but she told me a rather interesting story about the princess of Fire Mountain. Apparently Princess Chichi currently lives on Mt. Paozu with her husband and son. Ausan told me of the horrible years when the mountain burned and told a beautifully poetic tale of the great Turtle Hermit extinguishing the fires in one powerful movement. Chipa, another palace aid related a story that happened about three years ago. It seems that right before the royal wedding, the palace caught fire and Princess Chichi's betrothed was the heroic young man who extinguished the fire. It was Chipa's understanding that this young man was also a student of the Turtle school.

 _ **Visit to Mt Paozu**_

I was fueled with nervous anticipation as I drove up the cart path toward the Son home. While my visit was unannounced, I still felt as if I was on the cusp of a great discovery. As I crested the final ridge the forest thinned out and I was bewildered by the scene that played out before me. This was a modest compound, a combination of old world architecture and modern engineering. The main house was built in the classic pagoda style of the orient, but strangely, a modern capsule dome was added on to the side.

I was greeted by a charming young woman who introduced herself to me as Chichi. I was amazed that this humble mother and home-maker was a princess. She was most gracious and more than willing to answer my questions. She explained that Son Gohan was one of her father's oldest friends and the adoptive grandfather of her husband Goku. After they married, her father was more than willing to give them a wing of the palace, but the young couple wanted to make a home for themselves on the mountain. I asked Chichi about the stories of the Yeti, and if she had ever seen anything similar in her time on this mountain. The unflappable young lady laughed with a most dismissive tone befitting a princess.

"Oh that's just foolish! You know how superstitious villagers can be. Why my Goku used to say his Grandpa Gohan was killed by a monster."

We were suddenly joined by Chichi's son, a serious looking keenly aware boy of about eight or nine. Chichi introduced him as Gohan. As only a mother could, Chichi reinforced my impression of Gohan with a laundry list of his impressive intellectual accomplishments. I asked Gohan what _he_ thought of these stories.

"The existence of cryptids has never been disputed by mainstream science. Until there is proof, though, the stories can only be considered folk lore."

He might have been a boy, but he spoke with the maturity of a scholar. Gohan then filled me in on just about every creature living on or around the mountain. He assured me that in all his life (which by his own admission wasn't terribly long) he had never seen a giant ape creature on this mountain. While thorough, and quite accommodating, I couldn't help but feel like he was hiding something from me; but in all fairness, his guarded nature could have been a means to protect his mother from a stranger in his home.

Chichi and Gohan were walking me to my car, when we were joined by two men returning home from the forest. An athletic young man with the most laid-back amicable quality about him was greeted warmly by Chichi with a hug. I assumed this was her husband Goku. He shook my hand with enough force to level a mountain and I explained that I was investigating the local folk stories around the area. The other man with him maintained his distance. He was a tall, strapping man who radiated the presence of a warrior. His skin tone and eyes were an astonishing emerald color. There was a definite air of mystery about this man, and I was certain I had seen him before.

I thanked Goku and his family for their time and as I drove away I couldn't help but feel a bit deflated by the lack of information I gathered. A radio commercial for an upcoming pay-per-view fight triggered my memory and in a flash of remembrance, I realized where I had seen this green man. It blew my mind to think of the ramifications of that discovery. It was clear to me what my next step must be.

- _next_ \- Tenkaichi Budokai: Behind the Tournaments

* * *

 _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are my own. I do not own Dragon Ball(Z) nor am I making any money off of this. No copyright infringement is intended_ _ **. Beta by Sporadic Writer.**_


	3. Volume 12 Issue 9: 7 July 765

**Tenkaichi Budokai: Truth behind the Tournaments**

-By Alenio Conspiriakalos

Six weeks had passed since my first visit to Lupunyy and my introduction to Errnar's stones. My office by this time had begun to take on a lived-in appearance. My desk was littered with pizza boxes, sandwich wrappers and several days' worth of take-out Chinese containers. The dry erase board I wheeled into my office days ago was now partially blocking the door and collecting a beautiful mosaic of wondrous connections. It was becoming clear to me that these events were not simply coincidences.

It seemed as if each fresh lead I followed revealed a bizarre new mystery. One question plagued my mind the entire trip home from East Province; why, I asked myself, was the son of the tyrant King Piccolo, secluded on a mountain in the middle of nowhere? What connection could he possibly have to the Ox-king of Fire Mountain, the Yeti that destroyed Pilaf's castle, or the massive explosions that rocked the Northern wastes? Taken as separate and unrelated occurrences, these events couldn't seem further apart. When I add them to my office board, the subtle, almost imperceptible correlations are astonishing. 

**The Demon King**

My mentor, Rich van Dinkle, author of the groundbreaking _Unearthly Dialogues_ and frequent contributor to _AE,_ introduced me to the world of competitive martial arts. In all honesty I'm not an aficionado of fighting, however through Rich's influence, I've gained an appreciation for the power and self-discipline that these men and women posses. My introduction to martial arts coincided with one of the most unexplained and unsettling moments in recent political history.

I will always remember 753 as a defining year in my life. I was wrapping up my final semester at Central City University and had just embarked on an internship with Extraterrestrial Research for Distant Origins of Knowledge with exuberant idealism. Rich was just promoted to the position of Director of ERDORK, and I was eager to learn everything he and the organization could teach me.

More than three weeks before conventional media began covering the story of King Piccolo's assault on Earth's Central government; Rich was alerted to the disappearance and assumed death of the finalists for the previous ten tournaments. We were certain that there was an intelligence behind these abductions, and our theories were all but proven true when King Piccolo laid siege to the palace. To this day, few of the authorities we have approached believe the fighters were abducted; the ones that give credibility to the disappearances refuse to connect them to Piccolo.

Mainstream historians would have you believe that Piccolo was killed and his factions destroyed or disbanded by King Furry's forces. This was in fact the platform that won Furry another reelection over his cousin the Duke of Kibble. It could be reasonable to assume that Piccolo was killed by one of the Budokai participants and the Crown took credit. This could explain why Piccolo mysteriously ordered the kidnapping of the finalists of the recent tournaments. It's not unlikely to think the tyrant feared the tournament champions would pose a threat to him.

Some six years later, long after I moved on from ERDORK, I received a text message from Rich. He was in attendance for the 23rd Budokai, and the picture he sent me was a blurry phone image of one of the competitors. Seconds later he called me panting with excitement.

"I can't believe it; Piccolo's been resurrected! You have to come down here!"

I was intrigued by the pixely photo and immediately took a plane to Papaya Island. I was floored when I first caught a glimpse of the young man who called himself "Ma Junior". "Ma" in the ancient tongue translates to _demon_ , surly in deference to the elder Piccolo. Although he was young, I had no doubt that this boy was the son of Piccolo. Because of the tournament, all of the hotels on the island were overbooked, so Rich and I were forced leave before the final. While the man I met on Mt. Paozu was more muscular and far less gruesome looking than his predecessor, I am positive this man is the son of the Demon King. I knew I had to return to Papaya Island to investigate further. 

**The World Tournament**

After contacting authorities in the Office of Public Outreach for the Martial Arts Temple, I booked my flight to Papaya Island. I've always found it a bit ironic that this magnificent sanctuary is the setting for one of the most violent blood sports in the world. Every time I step outside the doors of Durian Airport, I never cease to feel draped in a peaceful tropical setting.

Currently the temple grounds are a maze of construction sites. I was welcomed through the gates by two silent monks and ushered through a labyrinth of concrete mixers and stone masons. I had an appointment to speak with the face of the tournaments, long time tournament presenter, Guy Announcèr. Mr. Announcèr showed me some of the completed areas of the new Temple, and detailed their plan for the next phase of restoration after the damage suffered after the 23rd Budokai. He assured me that they're on target for a return in 2 years. Interest in the tournament hasn't waned. Organizers are certain when they open the application process for the 24th tournament they will undoubtedly have to turn some entrants away.

When we finally had a seat at a small table on the third floor patio, we were served a pot of famous Papaya Green Tea. I asked him, quite surreptitiously, to recount some of his favorite memories from past tournaments. I was hoping to lead him into a conversation about the finalists without directly posing the question. As if on cue he began with the 21st tournament, describing it as nothing like any tournament before.

"Those two boys, only eleven or twelve, they were incredible!" He remembered. "Goku and Krillin were their names; I don't think I got their names right till their third tournament. They became fixtures here along with that teenager Yamcha; Zedaki was the other name _he_ went by. Those three were all the students of the Turtle School trained by Master Roshi. Roshi is one of the legends of the sport, you know.

"The whole thing was won by a shrewd old master named Jackie Chun. It seemed weird, you'd expect a guy like that to have been around, but nobody remembers him before the 21st. That final, though! Wow! Who'd have thought that little kid could have gone the distance with the old man? Then there was the giant ape thing! We figured later that one of them used a shape shifter as a diversion but no video could prove anything definitive. Still, the competition committee created a new rule addressing 'psychological manipulation'

"The weirdest thing about that tournament though, was the death of that boy Krillin."

Death? This caught me by complete surprise. These competitions are dangerous and more than one competitor has succumbed to the injuries received in the ring, but in this case I was sure Announcèr just told me the boy was a tournament fixture. I pressed him to continue.

"Well, _I_ was 100% sure I saw the kid get his neck broke by some green mercenary guy. Roshi and his other students showed up. He determined the kid wasn't _really_ dead and that Briefs girl took him away in one of their med-units. Those were dark times then, so many of the past champions disappeared after that tournament. We thought they were all dead but they were all found safe not long after King Piccolo was killed.

"I was really sure that kid was dead, though, but I guess those Capsule Corp folks can cheat death." He laughed.

Strangely, the world tournament was moved to every three years following the fantastic display provided by the 21st Budokai. Organizers have publicly stated that the reasoning behind this was increased ticket sales and an unprecedented increase in the number of entrants, but is it possible there were ulterior motives beyond simple monetary gain?

The 22nd tournament, Announcèr told me, devolved into more of a grudge match between the Turtle and Crane schools after Jackie Chun, the odds on favorite, suddenly dropped out before the final. One of the semi-finalists, Tao, was disqualified for attempting to murder his opponent. Officials frown on the use of the competition for revenge. The final of that tournament was a contest between the two prize pupils of the respective schools; young Goku and Tien Shinhan, with Shinhan declared the winner.

The 23rd Budokai was the competition that held the most interest for me. I asked Announcèr if he or any of the officials noticed the resemblance between Piccolo and the entrant who called himself "Ma Jr."

"No, see, we rarely get to see the entrants before they get here and there have been so many anymore that it's more of a first-come-first-fight type of thing. If somebody had noticed we would have probably never let him in, but by the time the fights are going, well you know, it's chaos around here!"

Announcèr admitted that he was grateful Goku made it to the final; in his opinion the kid was the only person capable of winning. He remembers it as the most challenging fight he's ever had to call. They were moving with such speed he almost lost their movements. Announcèr confessed that he was so focused on the fighters that he didn't notice the crowd evacuation or the temple crumbling around him. He maintained a bull's-eye of sorts on "that all important square. When the fight's going on that's all that matters".

When it was all said and done, Goku was narrowly declared the victor; and rather anticlimactically, the two went their separate ways. After the dust settled, Guy Announcèr and the promoters of the World Martial Arts Tournament were left with a mostly destroyed temple, and the largest gate and TV revenues they had ever collected. Oddly enough however, a large portion of the funding for reconstruction has been through grants from Hoi-Poi Exploration Incorporated, Capsule Corporation and Omori-dyne.

Unbelievable feats of strength, giant apes, explosive destruction, shapeshifters, mysterious old men; these are becoming recurring themes throughout this feature. Is it possible that there is another more sinister and secretive motivation behind the shortened intervals between tournaments? Can the influence of some of the preeminent technological organizations be found behind other areas of this investigation, and why is it that a respected school of martial arts seems to be at the center of all of these odd occurrences? 

**The Players**

I was simply overwhelmed with these and other questions after I reviewed the notes of my interview with Mr. Announcèr. I set out to discover as much information as I could safely get my hands on about these fighters. I began with the man I actually met only fifteen days prior, Son Goku. Oddly, if I hadn't spoken with the man myself I would think he didn't exist, yet he seems to be a major player. As it turns out, I probably know more about him than any official record. The sole picture of him is a promotional photo for the release of a new hover car designed by Capsule Corp back in 758. He can be seen as a shadowy figure in the background at a refreshment table. The only information I could find on Krillin, the boy Guy Announcèr assumed dead, was an entry in the ledger of an East City Shinto shrine.

King Choppa, the winner of the 20th tournament, has retired from competition and is ruling a small quiet country in the south west provinces. Inexplicably, there is no evidence of Jackie Chun, the winner of the 21st tournament. According to account records the prize purse was divided; 50% distributed to a small village in South Province, 25% to the Southern Transformation Kindergarten (colloquially known as the Shapeshifting Academy), and 25% to a numbered bank account in Orange Star City.

While I'm not an ardent fan of fighting, I am quite the baseball enthusiast. I recognized Yamcha Zedaki's name immediately, and I was astounded to discover that before his brief but record breaking career as the West City Dragons gold glove shortstop, he was a martial arts competitor at the highest level. While he was never a finalist, he advanced to the semi-finals of three consecutive Budokai. Yamcha is known for his acrobatic circus catches and fantastic reflexes on the ball, as well as a power hitting .485 lifetime average with an astounding 302 home runs in his four year career. The reason behind his sudden decision to retire has never been established, but if my assumptions are true; this revelation could rewrite the record books of professional baseball. I'm sure at this point some of you are saying "Alen, there's another connection there!" Oh yes, friends, a connection I will detail in upcoming weeks.

The final two competitors on Mr. Announcèr's list were linked to the Crane school of Martial Arts. The crane school was run by Shen and his brother Tao. Like the rest of the finalists, while Tien Shinhan has received an almost cult following as the champion of the 22nd tournament, there is no concrete history on the man.

In an interesting coincidence, Tao is one of the few surviving employees of the notorious Red Ribbon Army where he was employed as an assassin. Long time readers may remember this para-military organization from a series of articles published in _AE_ a few years ago penned by my colleague Sam Koind. After his disqualification from the 22nd tournament, Tao disappeared, so most of the information about him was gleaned from the notes Sam compiled for the writing of that article.

Reading over that information, I discovered another startling connection, one which many faithful readers may have already surmised. The Red Ribbon Army met its demise in 650. The official records point to a counter mercenary group sent out by King Piccolo, but Off-world Intrusion Theorists have hypothesized that the Red Ribbon Army was unbelievably brought down by one solitary soldier. It would be preposterous to assume that one _purely_ terrestrial soldier could exterminate an entire trained mercenary force. While promoters of the World Martial Arts Tournament have stated their reasoning, is it possible that the shortened intervals between tournaments serve another purpose? Could it be that the Tenkaichi Budokai has become a vehicle for the assimilation of otherworldly entities into Earth's society? And if so, what is their plan for our world? 

My colleagues at _AE_ warned me, when I decided to publish this series three weeks ago, that I was wading into dangerous waters. We've received more recognition in the popular media than I had ever thought possible. I can only thank _you_ , my faithful readers, for getting the truth out there. Unfortunately, with this publicity I am beginning to feel threatened by the very entities which I have been investigating. I've been forced underground for fear of my safety. For the foreseeable future, I will be sending these articles to the editorial office through encrypted e-mails. I hope to continue to reach my Friday deadlines. Please be patient with me; if you haven't yet, my friends, you will soon begin to see the reality that the authorities are hiding from society. 

- _next_ \- Vanishing Command: The Mystery of the Red Ribbon Army

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 _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are my own. I do not own Dragon Ball(Z) nor am I making any money off of this. No copyright infringement is intended_ _ **.**_


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